


Around the merry-go-round

by jkkitty



Series: Love Your Brother [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Kidnapping, Sibling Incest, holmescrest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-05-20 04:55:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14888040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jkkitty/pseuds/jkkitty
Summary: Mycroft leaves for a conference and Sherlock takes on a serial killer.  A person from the past is there to help solve the killings or is that really why they're there?





	1. A new puzzle for Sherlock

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all. Back continuing Sherlock and Mycroft love and the people who support them.   
> This is complete and will be posted usually every other day (unless life interferes).

John smiled at Sherlock who was buzzing with happiness on the way to the crime screen.  “You seem delighted having been called in to consult on this crime.”

“Mmmmm,” was all the response John received as Sherlock was thinking about the pictures sent to him. According to Greg, they needed his help on what seemed to be serial killings.  The second they arrived at the crime screen, the detective jumped out of the taxi heading toward the police tapes while John paid the meter. 

Meeting Sally at the entrance, she yelled, “Freak’s here.” 

“Sally!”  Greg growled in warning.  “Come on Sherlock. The victim is in here.  And Sally we’ll talk about this later.”  

John had caught up with them and followed them in giving Sally a warning look as he passed her. 

As Greg led the way, Sherlock said, “It’s not necessary to address her comments.   Doesn’t bother me at all.”

“I won’t have my people insulting you anymore,” Greg insisted and sent a scowl at Anderson who was just about to complain about Sherlock’s arrival that shut him up.

Before long, Sherlock was moving this way and that, around the body and finally kneeing by it completely looking in his element.  The victim was about 6 feet, dark brown hair, eyes looked as if they would have been a mixture of gray/blue, and he was thin almost to the point of emaciated.

John had moved back by Greg to watch Sherlock work.  “Greg. This isn’t the first one, is it?” 

“Yes, Dr. Watson. Excuse me. I need to talk to Anderson.” The DI acknowledged him coolly before moving away to Anderson, who was mumbling under his breath, ordering the man to remove himself from the room until Sherlock finished with his examination. 

“John, what do you make of this?   Time of death?”  Sherlock called the doctor over. 

Kneeling beside Sherlock, he examined the body.  “Obvious the slice across his throat should be the final cause of death as all the other wounds wouldn’t have killed him right away, but although there’s blood all over the walls, I see no blood around the body, so he wasn’t killed here.   As for time, two or three hours ago.  Hard to come up with an exact time with the room temperature in here.  Someone has the room’s heat set very high.”

“I would guess at least at 49.9C (120F).  Probably to set up an alibi,” Sherlock commented.  “Good job John, but you missed the fact that it was a poison that killed him.”

“Come on Holmes.  Even I can see the blood scattered all over the wall.” Sally condescending voice bloomed though out the room. 

Sherlock glared at her, “I think you’ll find the blood is pig’s blood throw there to distract the police from the killer's true method of killing this man. His breath smells of Levisticum Officinale or to your pea size brains, Lovage which smells like celery when ground.  Easy enough to hide in food.”   

Sally stomped over then leaned down to smell the victim’s mouth.  Once done, her frustration showed on her face.  “And how do you know it’s pig blood?” Then mumbled she spit, “Freak,” thinking no one else could hear her.

Greg’s hand on her shoulder made her jump.  “Return to headquarters.  I’ve talked to you often enough about this. Be in my office when I get there.”

At first, she just stood there shocked to be ordered off the scene.   It was only Greg’s loud, “Now Sally!” that had her moving.

Standing up after using an evident tube from his personal forensic bag to swab the victim’s mouth, Sherlock turned toward the DI.  “I believe you called this a serial killing, why?”

“This is the third time we discovered this exact scene and according to my counterpart in New York City, exact ten other times in his district.   We have received a communication from their chief asking if we would work together on this.  A detective will arrive here tomorrow to coordinate with our department to put a stop to this perpetrator.”

“So that why the number thirteen is on the wall.  Then it’s about time you idiots asked for my help.  I’ll inform you when to stop by Baker Street later this evening after I have some research to do.”  Sherlock said before turning around whipping out of the room, coat flowing behind him.

“I see he calls you,” John said before turning to follow his flatmate.

“I’m sure, Dr. Watson, that won’t be necessary.  He’s not a child you need to tell what to do.”  Greg answered before giving an order to forensic to begin their work.

Once in the taxi, John complained, “I don’t think Greg wants me involved.”  When he received no answer, he said louder, “Sherlock, did you hear me?   I don’t think Greg wants me there.”

“What?” Sherlock said coming out of his mind palace.  “What, No, no, he was just busy,” brushing off John’s concern.  Suddenly he yelled out, “Stop right here.  John, you continue home.   I need to see some of my people,” the detective instructed before jumping out of the taxi as it stopped.   “I’ll be home in a while.”

Later that evening Greg appeared at Baker Street, “Sherlock call and asked me to meet him here. Do you mind if I wait for him, Dr. Watson?” 

“Since when do you ask, normally you just bust in and search the place on any whim real or made-up.” John temper rose as he continued.  “I’m not even John to you anymore. Sherlock’s forgiven me, why can’t you?” 

“Sherlock feels he needs you in his life where I don’t think he does.  He needs someone who treats him as a friend, not a self-serving tosser.” Greg replied in disgust.

The men sat in annoyed silence waiting for the detective to return when they heard a buzzing from the freezer where Sherlock had placed the doorbell, again.  Before they could answer, Mrs. Hudson answer the door and led a woman to the flat’s door.  “Sherlock someone is here for you, and young man remove that doorbell from the freezer!”

John and Greg turned toward the door, “He’s not here at the moment Mrs. Hudson, but I’ll see that it’s removed.”  The men ran their eyes over the beautiful woman standing there.  

“Is Sherlock here?”  She asked.  The men, at last, stood in greeting. 


	2. Surprise?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise for Sherlock who isn't happy about it.

“I’m Deputy Inspector Greg Lestrade.”  The two men introduced themselves.

“He’s on his way.   I’m Doctor John Watson, Sherlock’s flatmate and partner.”

“Oh, Deputy Inspector, I’m Detective Amanda Rogers from the first Police Precinct on the southernmost tip of Manhattan.   I was supposed to meet with you tomorrow morning. However, the flight I was able to catch at such short notice allowed me to visit with Sherlock.  I was hoping he could give me the sightseeing tour of London he promised.”

“Are you sure that Sherlock promised you an outing?”  John surprise had him face unable to believe Sherlock would offer such a thing.

The questioning look had Greg piping up.  “What Dr. Watson means is it’s unusually for Sherlock to offer to take people around.”

“I had taken him on a tour of criminal locations in New York City.  I was hoping he would have time to return the favor,” she explained.

Surprised Greg said, “Sherlock went site seeing?  That’s surprising.”

“His brother was there for meetings while Sherlock was helping us with a case.  We had some downtime, and while waiting for some information, we needed to get some supper. Many of our restaurants have a criminal background so a tour and dinner.  Do you know when he’ll return?”

Before either man could answer Sherlock arrived taking the steps three at a time.  “Graham, I,” he stopped notice the New York detective seated on the couch.  “Amanda, I didn’t expect to see you in London.”  He managed to say.

“As we had some cases that seem to match the ones you have here, I volunteered to consult with New Scotland Yard. I thought we could perhaps have that tour of London you had mentioned before leaving New York.”

Noticing the grins on the other two men, he mumbled, “Must have deleted it” Then to Amanda, “I sorry but I’m on a case right now so don’t have time.” Sherlock said sending a pleading look at the other men.

“Sherlock, we’ll all be working with Detective Rogers on this as your case, and her cases seem to be committed by the same person.”   Greg grinned at Sherlock’s discomfort.

Wrapping his coat tighter around himself, Sherlock flopped in the chair.   “I don’t have time for sightseeing at the moment.  My people have informed me, someone has been around offering money to them to do odd jobs around their house for a week or so.  The three men who accepted the offer haven’t been seen again.  When the woman came around the last time, the people asked where Scott, Kurt, and Max were. She told them that she had gotten them jobs in another city with her friends.  I was able to get something from each missing person that may contain DNA.  I’m sure you will find the DNA will match your unidentified victims, Gavin.”  Sherlock explained.

“I’m sorry I thought your name was Greg.”  Amanda was confused.

“Greg, Gavin no different,” Sherlock waving his hands around.  “I’m sorry Amanda, I’m really busy this evening.  Promised John, we’d work on his mmm blog.  I’ll see you at the meeting tomorrow,” Sherlock tried.

John grinned. “That’s okay Sherlock.  We can do it another day. Why don’t you show Amanda around?  It’s not a problem.  We can do the blog another day.  Anyways, I forgot that we were going to work on it and made a date.”

“And I’ll take the items to Molly for verification of the victims.  Enjoy your evening,” Greg assured him trying not to laugh at the sour look on Sherlock’s face.  Standing to leave, he reminded them.  “Nine o’clock tomorrow morning.  I hope your night doesn’t make you too tired to arrive on time.”  It wasn’t until he was outside that he started laughing at the murderous look Sherlock had given him.

John headed toward his room to hide out until Sherlock left.

“If you prefer not to show me around tonight, we can reschedule it another day,” Amanda assured him.

“Just let me change, and I’ll be with you.”  Knowing there was no way out of this and Amanda’s love of unsolved crimes, he offered, “Would you like a tour of Jack the Rippers murder sites?” 

“That would be wonderful,” she readily agreed.

“If you’re hungry then we’ll stop to get you some dinner at Happy Days Restaurant. It is a Fish and Chip Shop on the site of one of the Jack the Ripper Murders in Whitechapel,” he said before pulling out his phone and making plans to have Ben, someone who owed him a favor, of course, cut his planned evening short to give them a private tour.

The taxi dropped them off at Adage East Underground station where the tour started.  From there they walked the cobbled alleyways and dimly lit passageways of Whitechapel.  Although dark and foggy, Amanda insisted on stopping at each murder site and having Ben give her all the bloody details.

Ben left them after they arrived at the Happy Day Restaurant that was the site of one the only clues ever to be found in connection with the criminal. Furthermore, it is the site of one of his most famous graffiti works, a plaque of which can be found hanging on its wall! 

After finishing the meal, they were sitting and discussing the crimes of Jack as they sipped their coffee when Sherlock noticed the time.  He stood up suddenly saying, “I didn’t realize it was so late.  I’m sorry, but I need to leave.  I am expecting an important video call.  Are you done?” 

“Sorry, I kept you so long.   I’m sure I can find my way back to the hotel if you direct me to the main street,” Amanda rose from her seat to join him.

Torn, Sherlock knew it was a ‘bit not good’ to leave her without making sure she reached the hotel safe, but Mycroft was probably getting worried when he had missed his call.  Knowing both John and Mycroft would berate him if he didn’t do the socially acceptable thing, he gave one of his fake smiles, “I couldn’t possibly allow you to go without company in a foreign town.  Taxi is this way.”

Climbing in the taxi that once more suddenly appeared when he raised his hand, he gave the driver the hotel’s address.  As they began to move, he sent off a fast text to Mycroft that he would call within the hour.

Arriving at the hotel, Amanda leaned over, gave him a lite kiss on the cheek, saying “I’m fine from here.  I’ll see you in the morning,” before shutting the door.  Watching the taxi pull away, she softly said.  “And more than that, Mr. Holmes.  This time you’ll not get away.”


	3. He Does Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock proves his love for Mycroft, and Anthea has a serious talk with her boss.

As Mycroft face came up on the computer, Sherlock smiled.  “Sorry I wasn’t here when you called before, love.”

“I’m sure you were busy.  New case?”  Mycroft returned his smile.  He had been so disappointed when Sherlock hadn’t answered before but just seeing him now was worth the wait.

“New and old.   It’s those murders Greg has been complaining about but hadn’t asked for my help.  Another death and he was at the door.”

“So, what were you up to before, chasing leads?  I’d tell you about my day, but it was nothing but meeting after meeting, people yelling and storming out and lunch of rubber chicken and overcooked potatoes.  Nothing new here.” 

“Mycroft, you're at a five-star hotel with its five-star restaurant.  I doubt the food was that bad.”  Sherlock laughed.

The laughed went right to the government officials heart.  He missed his brother so much that just hearing him laugh made him feel homesick.  “You’re right.  I just miss our cooking. So where were you earlier?”

Sherlock remembered how jealous Mycroft was of the New York detective but didn’t want to lie to him.  Maybe avoiding her name would do.  “I had Fish and Chips at the Jack the Ripper restaurant with a visiting detective who will be working on the case with us.  It seems they had similar cases up to a few months ago when it stopped.”

He could see that Sherlock was avoiding telling him something, concern Mycroft wondered what his brother was evading and pressed. “I’ve worked with a few detectives from there.  Maybe I know him.”

Sighing Sherlock said, “It’s Detective Amanda Rogers.  She wanted to collect on my foolish promise to show her some of the past criminal activities in London.  We took the Jack the Ripper tour and had supper at the end of it.”’

‘Oh,” was Mycroft only comment and turned his back on him.

“Don’t be like that Mycie.  You know you’re the only one for me,” went no answer came, Sherlock said.  “Can you turn and look at me please?”

Slowly he turned, “I think we should hang up as I’m very tired and should try to go to sleep as I have another stressful day tomorrow.  I’m sure you and the detective can find something to fill your time.”

“Mycroft you’re talking nonsense. There is nothing I want more than to be in your arms,” then giggled, “and pants.  Now you listen to me brother dear. I want you to close your eyes, think of me while you rub that lovely cock of your,” Sherlock ordered.

“What!”

“Just do it Mycie.”

“Okay, I’m doing it.”

“Imagine that I’m touching you, feel my hand starting to run my fingers over the tip and rubbing the pre-come down your shaft while stroking your member.  Feel how it is beginning to swell and harden. Now feel my thumb over the head of your cock again, and down its length.” Mycroft moans made Sherlock smile.   “I’m speeding it up, brother dear.”

Eyes closed, in his imagination, Mycroft could see Sherlock bending over him stroking his cock at the same time.  A tickle started and spread tightening up in his stomach. A moment later, he yelled out “Sherlock” as he came.  Exhaustion evaded every muscle of his body.  Reaching over to the end table, grabbing some Kleenex he cleaned himself off.

“More relaxed now, brother,” Sherlock said when he saw his brother’s eyes drooping and a sleepy sigh.

“Sorry I was a little jealous before, Sherlock.  I know you love me, it’s just sometimes I can’t understand why.  I do have to admit your relaxing technique is perfect. And I’m sure that I can sleep now.”  Mycroft yawned, “Good night brother dear.”

“Good night, Mycie,” Sherlock shut down the computer.  “Oh, Mycroft how can you doubt me?” he asked the empty room. “You’re everything to me.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mycroft woke with a smile on his face as he started to move in the morning.  Sherlock’s little orders had relaxed him last night, and he had the best night’s sleep since this conference started.   Anthea knocked before entering, noticing the smile.  “Told you there was nothing to worry about, and he would call once he returned home last night. Bet he was lost in a case again.”

“He did,” Mycroft confirmed.  “The itinerary for the day, please,” not addressing the second part of her comment.  The smile disappearing from his face and a frown replaced it remembering why Sherlock wasn’t there when he called.   “I need to go over some changes with you.”

Anthea looked over her boss, “Mycroft,” she started.  His eyes snapped to her as she only called him by name when she was really worried about him.  “Something is upsetting you.  You know you can always talk to me.  We’ve some time before you need to head to the meeting.  Talk to me.”

Mycroft placed his head in his hands shaking it.  “Sherlock was having supper with Detective Amanda Rogers.  She’s here to coordinated with NSY over some murders.”

“Isn’t that the detective he worked with when you were in New York?” 

“Same one.   Last time Sherlock worked with Rogers, he described her are fairly nice looking, intelligent, dedicated to her job and someone he could stand.  She’s around his age, and nice looking doesn’t do her justice.  She is gorgeous.  Why would he want someone like me?”   Mycroft let out a sad sigh.

“Mycroft, you know he loves you more than life itself.”  She reassured him.

“I’m old and fat.  Why would my brother prefer me over her?”

“Mycroft Holmes! Stop this self-pity party right now. He tried killing himself when he thought he would hurt you by being with you.  He was willing to shot himself at Sherrinford, went after Davison* when he hurt you and took on that murderous waiter in New York**.  He loves you and only you.”  Mycroft looked at her in shock, “Now stop this nonsense and make the changes to the itinerary for the day, please sir.”

Mycroft laughed.  Of course, Anthea knew Sherlock loved him, and she was right.  He didn’t need to be concerned but when that little voice in his mind said ’are you sure?’ he had listened.  “You’re right my dear. Now let’s work on those changes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference from:  
> * Love Your Brother  
> ** Can New York Cope With the Holmes Brothers


	4. The Silent Poisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSY and Sherlock begin to work with Amanda on understanding who the killer is.

Meanwhile, Sherlock and John headed toward NSY.  Entering the task force room set up for the ‘Silent Poisoner’ so name by the news media, Amanda called out to him.

“Guess us consultant should stick together.  Saved you a seat,” she told him patty one of the empty chairs next to her.  John headed toward it while Sherlock stopped.

Looking between her and Greg, who had a smirk on his face, Sherlock headed toward the front of the room.  Noticing Sherlock’s detour, John followed him leaving Amanda standing alone.

 “Gavin, I found the identity of the poison the murder the killer used,” he explained as he slid into the empty chair near the DI. 

Quietly Greg teased, “I believe the New York detective wanted to sit by you.”

“Do shut-up, Garth.  Do you want my information or not?”  Sherlock annoyance was clear.

Holding his hand up, Greg said.  “Hey mate, just teasing.  She seems fascinated with you.  I heard you went out with her for dinner and a tour last night, that’s all.”

“I spend most of the night calming down my brother’s jealousy, then examining the specimen from the body to identify the poison.” 

“Why didn’t Molly find it with the autopsy?”

Before Sherlock could answer, the room began to fill with the other detectives on the case.  After picking up donuts and coffee or tea, the team sat down.  When everyone settled down, Greg called the room to order.

“First,” He looked around the area and then at Amanda who had sat down in the back, frowning at the head table where Sherlock was sitting with John. “You all know Sherlock,” some moans and ‘unfortunately’ from the room, “In the back we have Detective Sargent Amanda Roberts from the New York Police Department who will be consulting on these murders with us as her department had a series of similar death that had stopped before they started here.  We believe this is because the killer relocated to London.  The items not released to the press about the murders here or New York are similar.  Therefore, we believe it is the same prep.  Detective Rogers could you review your cases for us.”

Amanda explained how with each murder that they found pig blood on the wall with the numbers one to ten, concussively painted on them.  Also, the descriptions are the same for each murdered man, the temperature in the rooms was all over 120 plus each had what looked like the fatal wound without enough blood on the flood around the body.

“Question?”  Greg asked the task force.

“If it’s poison, then how did they give it to the victims?”  Anderson asked condescendingly

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “It would be easy.  The water plant roots are comparable wild to parsnip and emit a similar odor to parsnip.  Just shred the roots and add it to a salad making it undetectable as a poison.  The New York autopsy reports found the remains of salad in each body.  Molly has also stated her body had salad in the body and looking to see if water Hemlock is among the ingredients.”

Looking at Sherlock with admiration, Amanda said, “We, however, didn’t discover the poison Sherlock mention, but I’ve texted my people to check on it.”

Anderson was furious that Sherlock once more outshined him.  “You don’t know what you’re talking about freak!”  Sally tried to shhh him, but he continued loudly.  “Where do you think the killer could get water Hemlock?  It’s not exactly on the market shelves.”

“Anderson!” Greg shouted.

“He’s just trying to show up my department again,” Anderson continues angrily.

Before Greg could say anything, John piped up.  “If the head of your department, were competent, it wouldn’t be an issue. Oh yes, that’s right, you’re the head of the forensic department.”

“Enough!  People are dying here.  Sherlock found it was poison and the type.  Now if we could get on with Sherlock’s report.”

“Sticking up for the freak again,” Anderson mumbled loud enough for the room to hear.

“If this is how your people speak to your consultants, perhaps New York shouldn’t be involved in this task force.”  Amanda was upset with Sherlock’s treatment.

Grumbling was raising in the room. “Could we continue without the comment?” the DI requested loudly. 

“Another one who….” Anderson began.

“Out!”  Greg shouted having enough of Anderson and the disruptions of the assembly. 

Once the people settled, one of the detectives asked, “But why pigs blood?”

“We’re not sure but looking into it.   Sherlock?”  Greg asked.

“Although it usually represents devil worship, I doubt it is in this case.  There is a likeness to human blood. I believe it’s someone who is trying to either get a certain person’s attention by punishing these men for not being him.”

“Wonderful deduction,” Amanda whispered loud enough for him to hear. 

“Okay, we’ll have to do some old fashion leg work.  Detectives partners take two officers with you, take the section assigned to you and go door to door.  Take all three victims picture and attempt to find out more about them.  Questions?” looking around no one answered, “Good.  Let’s get the perpetrator before they strike again. Dismissed.”

After the room cleared out, Greg expressed his apology.  “I’m sorry Sherlock.”

“Gary, it’s not a problem,” Sherlock assured him.

“That doesn’t make it right, Sherlock.  I would expect the police to understand it’s not acceptable to speak to you like that.” John who had joined them, defended him while glaring at Greg.

Ignoring John, “Sherlock, I would assume you and Amanda would like to take the last victim.”

“If it was used in American and here, it had to obtain from somewhere.  I’m sure Molly will verify that I am correct in my identification of the Water Hemlock, where was it acquired?  Someone would have noticed that amount.  I’m sure John can work with Amanda.”

“I’d love to watch you work, Sherlock,” Amanda said sweetly.

“I’ll be seeing some of my network, and they don’t take kindly to strangers.”  With the comment, Sherlock left.

John and Greg noticed the momentary fury on Amanda's face before she turned to John with a fake smile. “I guess it’s you and me.  Shall we go to the morgue first?” The NY detective whirl around heading out of the room. 

John hung back for a moment, “Greg, did you notice that the description Sherlock gave matched him.”

“Yes.  Do me a favor and watch Detective Rogers.  There something about her, I don’t trust.”  The DI said.

“I’ll keep you informed.  I think we need to keep Sherlock away from her as much as possible.”

“For once we agree.  You take care John, don’t turn your back on her.”

From the squad room, Amanda yelled, “Are you coming, Watson?” 


	5. I'm Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An argument, a needle, and darkness.

After a long night with a pissed off Amanda, John came downstairs in the morning to find Sherlock sitting in the chair, laptop on his lap, and finishing a call with Mycroft.

 “Let me know if you find out any information, and yes I’ll be safe. I love you, Mycie.  Only two more weeks before I can show you.”  Sherlock sent a kiss and signed off.

John could see Sherlock’s robe was slightly open showing how hard Sherlock was.  “I was going to take a shower, but if you want to use the bathroom first to take care of things, I can wait,” John tilted his head indicating Sherlock’s member.

“Not necessary.  How did it go last night?” bushing off the suggestion.

“Molly agreed that the blood was pigs’ blood and that the poison was Hemlock.  As for the victim, he was clean with no indication of vices, problems, or affairs.  The last anyone saw of him was on his way to a night class in criminal science. According to his mother, he was so proud to prove that he could follow his dream.”  John passed on the information.

“Proud?”

“Seems he has Asperger,” John said giving Sherlock a meaningful look.

Sherlock seemed to go into his mind palace with little comments such as ‘Yes,’ ‘Strange’ and ‘Mmmm.’   Suddenly he came back, “Do we have medical histories on the rest of the victims?”

“Come on Sherlock, the victims’ descriptions and the fact that the last one had Asperger.  These victims could be you!”  John clearly wanted his friend to examine it from his viewpoint.

“So, do a dozen others, I’m sure,” Sherlock then changed the discussion with a flick of his hand.   “How did it go with Rogers?” 

“Except when we were talking to the victims family, she continuously talked about you. What was your favorite food and color, what you liked and disliked, did you have a girlfriend, and what have you said about her? When I told her, you hadn’t told me anything about her, she became upset.  Honestly, Sherlock, she is obsessed with you. When you took off from NSY without her, the looked that cross her face was fury.”

“John, you’re not always the best judge of people.  I’m sure your mistaken.” Although protesting, a small hint of doubt tried to make itself known.

“Then talk to Greg.  He saw it and is worried also.”  John crossed his arms across his chest to make his point. 

“I think I know who is killing the men but need more evidence first.”

“What information were you able to find?  You need to share it with Greg.” John insisted.

“Not until I’m positive as there is a problem with the alibi and if we pulled the killer in now we'd tip them off.”

 “Sherlock, who is Mycroft checking out for you?”  John demanded.

“A lead just leave it, John.”  Sherlock was beginning to get annoyed.

“I’m not going to allow you to be in danger because of your thick-headedness.” John was also angry now.  He bit off each word, “Who is it you believe is behind this?  Greg and I can’t protect you if we don’t know.”

Sherlock stood, glared at John, and said, “I can darn well protect myself.  I did it before you came along and can do it again.  When you moved back in, we discussed how I wouldn’t allow you to tell me what to do any longer or treat me like a child.  So, sod off, John.”  With that Sherlock grabbed his coat and pounded down the stairs before walking off blindly.

John fell into his chair.  He didn’t think he was treating Sherlock like a child, but he was worried for his friend.  He felt guilty as he thought about how he had addressed the issue. Saying to him ‘I’m not going to allow you’ was the wrong way to bring up his concerns. He hadn’t meant to hurt his friend but seems it happened too often.   John decided when Sherlock came back he’d apologize and try to explain that he was trying to protect him from a murderer, not himself.

Sherlock anger could be seen on his face.  He bumped into anyone who didn’t move aside as he passed although the look on his face had most people quickly getting out of his way.  His mind whirling a mile a minute, ‘What am I going to do?  I aware John is trying to protect me, but it always comes across as he’s trying to manage me.  He’s my friend, and I don’t want to lose him by overacting at what he says.” He grabbed his hair and pulled in frustration, “These emotions are going to be the death of me yet.”

Feeling his phone vibrate, he stopped, looked and saw a message from John, “ _Sherlock, I’m sorry.  I meant to show concern as a friend not order you to do something you didn’t want to.  Please come home_.”

Sherlock smiled and texted: “ _I apologize also.  I overacted_.” And hit send, then “ _I’ll be home in an hour as I need to check in with one of my people.  See you then, and we’ll talk_.”

He had begun walking as he was typing when another person bumped him sending him into the dark alley he was passing and causing him to trip and to drop his phone.  Arms grabbed him around his neck, choking him as he was pulled deeper into the darkness.  Trying to fight him off, he saw a second person stepping up and felt a needle jabbed into his neck.  Within seconds, he felt his body shutting down and blackness surrounding him.  Before he was released, he fell to the ground unconscious.

John waited the hour staring at his phone’s that screen showed the ellipsis of someone typing, but no message appeared.  Sitting there and waiting for his flatmate, two then three hours passed without Sherlock coming home.  Finally, he knew acknowledged that something was wrong.

Since John had moved back in, there was an agreement between the two of them because of how often they were kidnapped or attacked. If either of them were going to be later than they had stated, they would text the other.  Pulling his phone out of his pocket, John took a deep breath and dialed Greg.

In his office, Greg grabbed his phone, “Talk.”  His raised voice telling John the DI’s day wasn’t going well.

“Greg, it’s John.  I believe Sherlock is missing.”  John started carefully knowing what the next question would be.

“What did you do?” Greg demanded.

Yeap, just what he expected.  “We argued, and he walked out,” before Greg could say anything he rushed, “But we both texted saying we’re sorry.  He said he’d be home in an hour and that was over three hours ago.”

“What else?” Although not as demanding still suspiciously.

“He said that he believed he knew who was killing the men.  Just waiting for something that Mycroft was checking for him.  That’s what we argued about, not telling you what he believed.  Anyways we were texting, and although he stopped, his phone still has the ellipsis as if he was texting yet. I tried calling him, and it’s going straight to voicemail.  Greg, I’m concerned whoever is killing our victims has him.” 

 


	6. I love you, silly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wiggins offers information.

John could hear Greg slamming his office door and feet rushing across squad floor.  “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” 

Pacing, John went over everything Sherlock has said but still come up with nothing.  Before long he heard Greg racing up the stairs.

“Any word yet,” the detective huffed out.  “Can I see what he wrote you?”

John handed over his phone.  As Greg was looking at it, there was banging on the outside door followed by yelling.

“Dr. John, Dr. John yer got ter come.”  Looking out the window, the men saw Wiggins with a young boy. 

Mrs. Hudson answered the door, and they heard Wiggins say, “'e's got ter speak ter Dr. John.”

Two sets of feet climbed the seventeen steps to B.  When they open the door, Wiggins pushed the boy before him.  “'e 'as some information about Sherlock, 'e needs ter tell yer about. Go ahead Kevin, right, yer tell the doctor and the bleedin' detective.”

The boy looked down at his feet scuffling his feet.  “Kevin, tell the chuffin' doctor now! Struth or 'll cuff yer one.”

The boy looked up at Greg and John before looking at the floor before he quietly said, “Me saw some men snatch Guvnor 'olmes after stickim’ 'im in the chuffin' 'nek ‘ey threw 'im into a van and drived away.”

“Are you sure?”  Greg voice sharply asked, causing the boy to hide behind Wiggins.  Softening his voice, “Sorry Kevin, are you sure it was Sherlock?”

Kevin peeked out, “Cor blimey guv, Me wouldn't lie ter yor.” 

“Can you show us where this happen?” John asked putting on his coat.

“Me can gov, but wot if ‘em bad men comea back ter 'urt me?”  The fear of the kid was obvious.

Wiggins grabbed the boy by the neck, “Me told yer Kevin, the bloody Doctor and Detective will protect yer. Now show ‘em.”

“No need for mishandling the boy, Wiggins.  Come on son, show us.”  Greg led the way down the stairs.

When they arrived at the site, they found Sherlock’s phone next to the wall.  Greg knelt beside the phone and found the ground torn up as if a fight had happened.

Greg looked up at the boy, “Did you see the men’s faces?”

“No gov, 'onest just ‘eir backs,”

“Can you tell me anything else about them?”  John asked.

“One were wite the bloody uvver black.  ‘ey bleedin' size as Guvnor 'olmes, ‘at is all I know Dr. John. Can me go, isit?”

“Just one more question?  What can you tell us about the van?”

“Wite and big.  ‘e chuffin' inside ‘ere dark me couldn't spot inside.”

“Thank you, Kevin,” Greg touched his head.  “Wiggins, you see the boy is safe.  I may need to talk to him again.”

“Me ‘ill,” Wiggins took Kevin’s hand and walked away.

Greg called for his team to search the area and knock on the door to see if anyone saw anything when Sherlock’s phone rang.

“Blooming hell, it’s Mycroft,” John saw his name flash across the caller ID. “You better take it, Greg, he’s still not speaking to me.:

Greg raised the phone, took a calming breath, and answered.  “Mycroft.”

Mycroft was instantly on alert “Gregory, why are you answering my brother’s phone?”

“There been an incident, Mycroft,” Greg started, but the government official interrupted him.

“Where is Sherlock?”  Mycroft demanded.

“I’m afraid that he’s been kidnapped.  We’re at the scene now.  Mycroft, what did he ask you to research for him?”

“He wanted to know when Detective Amanda Rogers arrived in England.  My people discovered she had been fired from the New York Police Force three months ago and her last paycheck was returned unopened. When a few friends when to check on her, she seemed to have disappeared.  We were able to uncover that she entered England on a passport under the name Shelly I Wonlock right before the murders start.  Also, we found she had been going through the Asperger database both here and in America for men who look like Sherlock.   I’m not sure how she knew Sherlock has Asperger, but she did.”

“Jesus,” John exclaimed, “She came here just for Sherlock.”

“Correct Dr. Watson, Gregory I’ll be there early tomorrow morning. Keep me informed,” Mycroft ordered. “And find my brother, please,” he pleaded before disconnecting the phone.

The men stood quietly waiting for Greg’s team.  When they arrived, John and Greg headed for 221B.  John called Wiggins and asked him to come around so that they can ask for his and Sherlock’s network’s help.

The men spend the rest of the day and night looking for leads to where Sherlock was but came up empty-handed.  When Greg headed home, John crashed on the bed, asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Sherlock woke slowly.   His eyes felt glued shut and body heavy. ‘Drugged’ he mumbled. Exploring with his eyes closed what he could from where he was, he could feel the dampness and smell the mussy air.  ‘An old stone wall cell.’  No sound met his ears, and his body was cold and felt wet ‘They took my clothes again, at least they left me in my pants.’ he thought.  He attempted to move his arms but found them tied above his head an, his legs to the bottom of the bed.  He felt someone sitting next to him on the bed.

The sensation of something touching his naked chest, had him opening his eyes. “Oh, there you are love.  I thought those clods gave you too much of the drug,” Amanda said while continuing to run her nail lightly down his chest.  “Just as I thought.  Those suits hid a beautiful body, and now it’s all mine.”

Before answering Sherlock looked around the small room.  It was empty except for the metal spring base and the thin mattress he was laying on that wouldn’t move as he tried to rock it, ‘Screw to the floor.’ He surmised.  The small table sat by the door was empty except a plate and syringe.   From the ceiling, there was a single naked hanging light bulb shedding light on the room.  The stone walls were sweating drops of water on and around him. 

“What do you want?” demanded Sherlock.

“Why silly, you of course.  I’m done nothing but dreamed of you since we spend those wonderful days together.  I know you feel the same as I do.  Tell me when you first realized you loved me.”  Amanda’s insanity eyes were bright with happiness.


	7. You of course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock finds out What Amanda Wants

“ I’m done nothing but dreamed of you since we spend those wonderful days together.  I know you feel the same as I do.  Tell me when you first realized you loved me.”  Amanda’s insanity eyes were bright with happiness.

Sherlock knew he could handle this situation two ways appease her or deny her. He decided not to play her game. “I have no feeling for you or desire to be your lover.  Women are not my area besides the fact I am already in a relationship.”

‘Slap’ “Don’t lie to me, I know you don’t have a lover.  You made it clear in New York that you loved me. Everyone said you don’t like people but we when out on a supper date, so you could show me how much you cared.  Now admit it.”  She yelled at him.

“No.” he turned on his side as much as he could to ignore her.

 “How dare you?  I gave you puzzles to solve to show my love. Do you think I would have committed all those deaths just to show you how much I love you if I didn’t believe you loved me in return?” She grabbed him trying to turn him on his back, but he refused to allow it.

“You are an insane murderer who doesn’t understand love. Let me make myself very clear, I did not then or now love you.  Let me go now!”

Suddenly he felt her stand before felling a painful slash across his back.  Turning quickly on his back, he saw her standing there with a riding crop in her hand.  “You will never leave.  I promise you when I’m finished that you’ll be begging me to allow you to show how much you love me.” He tried to cover his head with his arms as the riding crop rained down on him but had to bury his head in his armpit to protect it.

When she finished, she snapped her finger, the door opened, and a man grabbed the needle and brought it to her.  “You will plead to receive the privilege to make love to me.” 

“What is that?”  he demanded looking suspiciously at the needle. 

“Don’t worry darling?  It will just make you a little more compliant.” After jabbing it into his arm, she kissed his lips and smiled.  “I know you love me.  You need a little help realizing it.  Sleep well, my love.”

Sherlock saw her walk out as his eyes closed into oblivion.

John was jerked out of a sound sleep by Mycroft’s, “Did you find my brother, Dr. Watson?”

“Aahh, Mycroft.  What time is it?” 

“It’s eleven am.  You didn’t answer my question. Did you find my brother?” 

“Bloody hell, Mycroft.  Let a man wake up, won’t you?”

“You were supposed to be looking for my brother, so for the third time, did you find my brother?”

John let out his frustration blast Mycroft. “No, we didn’t!  After spending most of the evening and all night, but we found no sign of him or Amanda. We needed to get some rest so that we were fresh in the morning and could think better.  We have Sherlock’s network looking, and Greg department is trying to find out if Amanda was seen by herself or with others anywhere in London.  What did you people find?”

The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife.  Both men glared at the other. John ruffled his hair, “Look Mycroft, we’re doing the best we can.  We need rest and food to continue.”

Mycroft took a deep breath, “I apologize to Dr. Watson.  This situation has my normal defenses down.  Let’s go to NSY and meet with Detective Inspector Lestrade to share information and plan our attack.  I believe my brother is safe at this point, but his stubbornness and ability to irritate others will not give us much time before Rogers decides to torture or kill him.”

The men left the apartment silently entering Mycroft’s car.  On the way to NSY Mycroft called Greg and asked him to gather the information he had on the abduction and meet them outside.  Once Greg joined them, they headed toward Mycroft’s underground office.

Tea and biscuits delivered, the three men began to organize what the different teams had discovered.    Amanda had been in London for slightly over two months, just before the first murder there, and although seen in the camera scattered throughout the city, she seemed to just disappear after being spotted.  It was as if someone was helping her.

“I believe,” Mycroft said after looking at what they had, “That Miss Rogers had this planned all along.  These murders were too organized for the person who arrived only a week before murders began to happen.  The fact our murders were similar to the ones that happened in New York, I imagine the New York’s murders were practice for the real thing.”

“Practice!  There were men killed as practice!  Sherlock could be next, and you’re talking about practice.   With being the British Government, you can’t come up with more than it was practice!”  John was worried, tired and frustrated. 

Although they had data as to where Amanda had been and the shopping she did, they had no information about where Sherlock could be. Greg had stepped into the corner to take and call from headquarter returning to the conference table to hear John’s tirate.

 “Calm down John.   I’m sure Mycroft is doing the best he can as are the police.  After looking into the letter that we receive to request the joint participation in the murders here and New York, I was just informed that the requesting officer, Captain Shelly I Wonlock, doesn’t exist.”

“Don’t you check out requests?” John shouted at him.

“Will you PLEASE, let Gregory finish without interruptions.”  Mycroft raised voice interrupting.

Giving both me a look that said ‘Cut it out’ Greg continued, “I had the IT people look into the camera in the area of Sherlock adduction, and they found a few unexpected glitches in the camera system.  They believe that the same thing could have happened when she disappeared around the shopping area.”

“So she has had someone here who has been helping her forge requests,” John said.

“Not necessarily.  It’s possible that Rogers connections believed she was working on a case.  Once she was able to get into one camera record, if she or someone who has computer sabby I believe she would be able to get into the system to find where cameras were in the needed areas,” Mycroft explained.

Greg looked at the map of her sightings, “Are you saying that you don’t you believe her hiding place is in the area she is shopping in?” 

“It would seem to be, but she’s not a fool.  No, I believe she is trying to throw us off her trail. “ Mycroft stood to examine the map, “I think that that we’ll find her here in the Northeastern part of London.”

“Why?” the challenge in John’s voice.

“I know I’m not my brother, Dr. Watson, but I can understand the mind.  She is a devious insane woman who doesn’t want to be found and has used her previous position to gain the information to take Sherlock and hide from the police here .”

“And why would she been there?” John wasn’t ready to give in to Mycroft yet.

“It is the place furthest away from where she was seen and also the mud found by my brother’s adduction site is the same as this ten block area that is being torn down and new buildings up.  Does that answer your waste of time?”

“But…”

“Will the two of you stop?  We’re supposed to be working together to find your roommate and brother.  Now let’s work on camera’s in this new area if you two can start acting like grownups and two squabbling toddlers.”  Greg condescending voice had both men blushing.


	8. Our date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock wakes up again to a date

 When Sherlock woke in the dark the second time, he realized he was shivering and in need of water.  Without opening his eyes, he took an inventory of himself.  His fingertip and toes were freezing, and when he moves them pins and needles traveled up his legs, but it seems to help his circulation there.  His body and arms felt numb from not being able to move them much.  And the sting of the riding crop was still painful.

He heard the door opening and a guard built like a mountain came in to attach a metal collar that was connected to the wall with a heavy iron chain to Sherlock before untying his feet and hands.   Quickly moving them, he could feel the blood flowing and relief spread through his body.

A few minutes later Amanda came in dressed in a low cut black dress that was cut up the sides to the waist. He couldn’t help noticing when she stood in front of him that she wore no underwear.  The rest of her outfit included five-inch heels, sparkling jewelry, hair piled high on her head and makeup that looked like it was put on with a paintbrush. 

“Sher it’s time for our date.”

“Date?” Sherlock huffed  
“Come on Sher.  All girls like to go on dates with their beau. I pick this dress and hairstyle just for you.  Do you like I fixed myself up?”  She primped and turned around so that he could see all of her.

“Only if you like being with a whore,” he answered turning his body over and closing his eyes.

“Don’t make me angry.  Now darling, look like what I have for us,” Amanda snapped her fingers.  “Josh be a dear and bring in the table, please.”

Sherlock took a quick look over his shoulder then turned back to the wall.  He heard the table being sat down, smelled the aroma of the food, and swallowed the saliva in his mouth.  His stomach started to rumble, “traitor” he mumbled, “Shut up.  Just go away.  I don’t intend to go on a date with you now or ever.”  He ordered as he pulled himself into a ball as much he was able.”

“You don’t mean it,” Amanda’s irritation was beginning to show. “Aren’t you hungry and need something to drink, it’s been two days. I have some hot tea and chips.  I remember how much you loved them on our first date.” She was now back to talking sweetly.

“There was never a date.  We worked together that was all.” 

When he didn’t turn around, she yanked his hair forcing his head to turn toward her.  “You are making me angry.  Now drink your tea.”

“Piss off.  You’re not my type, and if you were, I wouldn’t want an egotistical lover,” he shouted, kicking his legs out knocking the tea out of her hand.

Amanda upset the table sending the food and pot of hot tea over Sherlock’s bare skin burning him.  He bit his lip to not cry out in pain.

“You will love me even if I have to beat it into you.  Josh teach Sherlock some manners and how to treat his mistress.  However, before he starts Sherlock, I understand Asperger makes you hypersensitive.  This little injection will increase your sensitivity level, so between this and Josh’s lesson, I’m sure you’ll think twice before you reject me again.”  She screeched giving him the injection. 

“You call this love,” Sherlock hissed through his teeth to control the pain, he was beginning to feel.  Gently she cupped Sherlock's face, “This is for your own good darling,” then other her personality returned, “Josh if you please.  Convince my man how wrong he is.” She kissed Sherlock on the head.  “You will love me!” she ordered as she spun around to leave.

“Not Bloody likely,” he yelled after her as the first fist slammed into his face.

Wiggins raced up to 221b and started banging on the door.

“Dr. ‘ohn, Dr. ‘ohn open yer door gov. Me got sum information about te bird yer ‘re lookin' for.  Cor blimey guv, would me lie to you. Come on gov, open the bloomin' bloody door.”

Mrs. Hudson opened the door hands on her him find who was looking up and down the street.  “Young man stop that yelling right now.  Dr. John isn’t here at the moment.  Now, what do you want?”

“Me gotta tell Dr. ‘ohn. Me found the bird, ‘e wants.”  Wiggins was clearly excited. “One o' Shezzie's blokes seen 'er buyin' dress and followed 'er ter 'er 'ouse.”

“Come in then, and I’ll call John.” 

After they were in the kitchen, she dialed the doctor.  “Hello, John, that friend of Sherlock’s is here saying he has information on Sherlock where about.”  She listened, and said, “I’ll take care of this.  Ten minutes okay.”

Mrs. Hudson set some biscuits and milk out for Wiggins, “Dr. John said someone would be here in ten minutes to take you where they are.  Just eat that until they get here.”

“Ta, Mrs. H.”

A little later there was a knock on the door had Wiggins rushing to it.  A man dressed in a black suit stood outside.  “Mr. Wiggins come with me please.”

Hopping in the back seat, Billy noticed drawers and cabinets and began to pull open them, “Me get use to ‘is.” He told the driver.

“Yes, sir.  Please feel free to help yourself to so refreshments.”

Placing his feet up on the seat, he took out a beer and began drinking it.  When the car stopped, his pockets were full of treats. 

“This way Mr. Wiggins,” the driver directed. Glancing around, he began to get a bit frightened.  The steel walls and armed guards they passed almost made him turn around and run out of the building.  Before he could act on his fears, “In here, sir.”  The driver had open a door and ushered him in showing him to a seat before stepping out.

 A few minutes later, Mycroft, John, and Greg entered the room to see Bill looking around the room for a way out. “Wiggins, sit down,” Mycroft ordered.   “Now what have you found out?”


	9. A Psychopath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock refuses to say he loves Amanda.

“Me safe ‘ere, gov?” 

“Yes, you're safe, now what did you find out?”

“Shezzie’s blokes found the tart yor lookin' for.  ‘e followed ‘er ta ‘er ‘ouse.”

“Can you show us where it is?”  John asked.

“Me can, do me cop ter ride in that car.”  Wiggins had hope in his eyes.

“Yes, we do,” Mycroft said as he led them out. “But I doubt you can place any more snacks from MY car into YOUR pockets.  So, try to keep your hands to yourself.”

John and Greg attempted to keep the smile from their faces as Wiggins turned bright red.

Shaking Sherlock awake, Amanda kisses his face, “Oh look what you made me do.” 

She said as his hiss in pain.  “Why are you stubborn.  Just admit it.  You know you love me.” Sherlock’s eyes are turning shades of purple and his face swollen with bruises blooming across it. 

Croaking though his dry mouth, “Never.  I could never love a psychopath like you.  Besides I’m already in love with a wonderful gentleman.  When my friends come for me, you’ll be spending the rest of your life in a cage.” He ended with a gut-wrenching coughing spell.

“You aren’t gay,” she screamed before laughing hysterically.  “Talk about a psychopath.  I hate to tell you this, darling.  You’re one also, so we perfectly match.”

“Get it right, I’m a high functioning sociopath,” he managed to wheeze out.

“Darling it doesn’t matter, we’re made for each other,” Offering him a bottle of water, “Take a sip my darling, for me.  It will help with the dryness.” 

A war was going on inside of Sherlock.  The thirst was demanding, but he didn’t want to encourage her.  “No thank you, not thirsty.”

“You liar.  I know you’re thirsty,” she said throwing the water into his face. She kicked the mattress.  When she received no response, she yanked his head off the mattress by his hair then hit it against the stone wall causing severe cuts on his forehead. 

“You will tell me you love me. And that so-called love you claim to have, if it’s true, he’ll die along with anyone else who gets in my way of having you. Josh, he wouldn’t say it.  Make him say it,” she pleaded. “Darling I will be back in a while, and you’ll tell me you love me, or I’ll make your friends paid for your stubbornness.”

After she left the mountain of the man approached Sherlock, “Just say it, man.  Your body can’t take much more.”

Shaking his head causing blood to run into his eyes from the cuts, he said, “Never.  Why are you doing this for her?”

“She has evidence that can put my little girl in jail for a long time.  My Missy didn’t mean to hurt anyone, but she was on drugs.  So, I’m sorry mate, but I must do what she tells me to do to save my Missy,” Josh smashed his fist into Sherlock’s face.

As he began to pull his fist back again to hit once more, the sound of pings could be heard outside the door just as the ram crashed the door.

“Mycroft wait, let us clear the room first.,” Greg yelled as the ram knocked down the door, and the government official ran into the room.  

Josh who was about to land the second fist on Sherlock, turned at the sound of the door cracking open to receive a fist in his face. Shocked, Josh fell back landing on Sherlock. 

“Get this mountain off of me,” Sherlock yelled.

Mycroft yanked the man off and threw him on the floor.  Seeing the bruises and blood running down his brother’s face, he turned to continue beating the man.  “Stand down Mycroft,” the DI managed to reach Mycroft first grabbing his arm.   Between him and John, they managed to pull Mycroft off Josh.

“Mycroft,” John said softly as the government official stood blinking unsure of himself. “Your brother needs you.  Go care for him.”  John gently turned Mycroft toward the bed.

Mycroft observed his brother before moving quickly toward him.  He untied Sherlock’s legs then released his arms.  Lowering them slowly, he rubbed them encouraging the blood to flow back into them. 

“Water,” it was difficult to understand Sherlock between the shivering and swollen face.  “My, so cold.” 

Removing his suit coat and covering his brother, Mycroft said.  “Shh Sherlock, I’m here,” Glancing around finding no one paying attention to them, he kissed his brother as Greg said, “Mycroft.”

Mycroft head twilled around with concern to look him in the eye, “Just wanted to see if you needed help, but seems you’re already examining your brother’s face.  If you need me just give me a yell.”

“Does someone have water?”  Mycroft called out.  Sally appeared before him water in hand.

Looking at Sherlock, she said, “He might be a know it all, but he is a good man.  Take care of him.  No one deserves what she did to him.”

“Thank you, Sergeant Donovan.”  Mycroft accepted the water.

“Just don’t think this makes a difference, Freak,” she said to Sherlock with a wink before she turned around to help Greg.

“Did you find her?”  Sherlock asked as the water cleared his throat.

“She not here, gov,” one of the officers from upstairs said.

“Someone has to find her,” Sherlock demanded then looked at his brother.  “She threated to kill you all if she can’t have me.  Mycroft, you need to protect yourself and stay away until she’s found.”

“I’m not leaving your side.   Let’s get you to the hospital to have you checked over.”

“Please Mycie, I don’t want to go to the hospital.  John can check me over if you insist, but I want just to go home,” Sherlock’s look of sadness played on Mycroft heart.

“Dr. Watson are you willing to look over and help my brother?”

“Of course, I’ll come with you two to your house, Mycroft.”

“No,” Sherlock interrupted. “I want to go to Baker Street, sleep in my bed, be surrounded by familiar things.”

“I’ll have a car drop you off there if that’s what you desire,” disappointment obvious,

“No, I mean we can go to Baker Street if you’re sure you want to risk her murderous threats.  I just want the feel of my home.”  Sherlock clarified his desires.


	10. My Brother Lied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lie and danger

After they arrived back at Baker Street, John checked Sherlock over.  “Nothing is broken, but you’ll be sore for a bit.  There are bruises all over your body and face.  Whatever they hit your back with left welts and some shallow cuts that will heal without scarring.”

“Doesn’t matter, wouldn’t know the difference between all the rest of them,” Sherlock told him.

“Rest love.  And I love every one of those scars,” Mycroft assured him as he helped him to bed.  As he turned to leave, Sherlock grabbed his hand.

“Please stay.   I want to feel you near.”

Mycroft took off his shoes and suit jacket before sliding in beside Sherlock.

The next week brought no news of Amanda.  Mycroft went to work during the morning, afternoons and days that John didn’t have to go in and when John did, he stayed with Sherlock. 

“Go in John.  Honestly, I don’t need a babysitter.  I’m fine now and can walk without getting dizzy even pee on my own.  They wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t an emergency.”

“But I promised Mycroft,” John knew the ‘English government’ wouldn’t be happy if he left.

“Oh, for god sakes,” Sherlock dialed.  “Mycroft.  John must go to the clinic and doesn’t want to break his promise to you.  Yes, okay, I’ll let him know.”  Clicking on the disconnect button, “He says to go, he’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

“I can wait for him,” John suggested.

Flopping down in his chair, the detective waved him away. “You’re going to be late John.  I’ll stay right here until Mycroft gets here.  It’s twenty minutes now be gone.”

Still unsure John left after reminding his flatmate, “I’ll be just a few hours.  If you need me, call.”

After John left, he grabbed his phone turning it on as he walked into his bedroom.  “Those two are going to be the death of me yet.”

“Don’t worry darling. I’ll never let them.” A voice said.

Turning quickly, he found Amanda standing behind him a gun pointed at Mrs. Hudson’s head.  “Go ahead lay down on the bed, my love.” 

Sherlock saw her eyes boring into him, looking hard and making him nervous for Mrs. Hudson safety.  “Leave her go, and I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Sorry lover, I know you’re lying. Now lay on the bed before your housekeeper has an extra hold in her head.”  She ordered pushing Mrs. Hudson down while pressing the gun harder into her head.

“Not his housekeeper,” the spicy women said.

“Not now Mrs. Hudson,” Sherlock’s frustration was clear.

After he laid on the bed, Amanda handed Mrs. Hudson a rope, “Tie his hands to the headrail.”

“I will do no such thing,” Mrs. Hudson refused.

“Now, or I’ll shoot.”  Amanda’s tolerance was wearing thin.

“Just do it, Mrs. Hudson,” Sherlock spoke softly to her.

Grabbing the rope, the landlady stood up and headed toward the bed.  “Make sure it’s tight,” Amanda instructed. 

“I know how to tie a person up,” Martha said.  “My husband was a crime lord.”  As she reached Sherlock, she confessed. “Sorry dear.  She took me by surprise.”

 As she tied his hands, he made a fist as she looped the rope around his hands.  Smiling, she brushed his hair off his forehead before kissing him on it and puffing his pillow. “Are you’ll alright dear?” then turned to Rogers' with her hands on her hips.  “Are you happy?” 

Throwing the second rope to her, “Now his feet.” 

“Really, dear.  If you’re going to capture someone you need to learn to do some of this yourself,” Mrs. Hudson grumbled as she bound Sherlock’s feet.

“Now over in the chair, you old bat,” Amanda demanded.

Mrs. Hudson looked at her with daggers before stomping over and dropping into the chair hands wrapped in her apron and seemed to be wringing them.  “You know you could give an old lady a heart attack the way you’re waving that gun around.”

“Shut up, or I’ll shut you up,” Amanda warned before she began to look around the room.  “Who’s this?”  She picked up a picture of Sherlock and Mycroft, smiling at each other from their earlier vacation. Love obvious in their eyes.

“No one, just my brother.”

“This is the man with the stick up his ass I met in New York.  Why are you looking at him like that?”  Anger in her tone.

“Like what?”

Moving close to him, “Like you two are in love or something?  That’s obscene, lewd, and indecent.  This is the man you love?”  She shoved the pictured into his face then slapped him, “And to think I loved a thing like you.” 

While she was hitting him with her gun, Mrs. Hudson removed John’s gun she had taken from under Sherlock’s pillow when she ‘fell’ on him.  “Leave him be.” She ordered.

As Amanda twisted her finger accidentally pulled the trigger toward Sherlock’s chest, two shots were heard.

John was walking toward his office when his phone rang with ‘God Save the Queen.’ “It was only twenty minutes Mycroft, what did he do?” he asked aggravated knowing it wouldn’t even take his flatmate that long to get into trouble.

“I was under the impression you were staying with him today,” Mycroft annoyance obvious.

“When he called you to tell you they called me in, he said you were okay with him being alone for the twenty minutes it would take for you to get there,” John said.

“He never called me Dr. Watson.”

“I was right next to him when he did.”

“My brother tricked you.  I’m on my way there now, and we are going to have a domestic when I get there.  So, I suggest you continue to work unless you wish to also have a word with him.”  

John could hear Mycroft entering his car and telling his driver to hurry.  “That’s alright.  After my shift, I’ll have a small domestic with him myself.”  Hanging up, John felt the stream coming from his ears.  He called the office telling them he had an emergency and was returning home. When he got here, Sherlock was going to get a very loud indication just how angry he was.


	11. But I Love Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amanda and the results.

As Mycroft exited his car, he heard what sounded like two gunshots.  His driver/bodyguard, Josh, raced up the stairs before him.  “Stay here while I check this out sir,” he told Mycroft who ignored him.  Both men entered the room to hear someone screaming in pain. 

Entering the bedroom, they found Mrs. Hudson standing over Amanda Rogers who was screaming and holding her arm.  John’s gun in Mrs. Hudson’s hand while a second gun was across the room.  Josh moved up to a shocked Martha placing his hand on hers and removed the gun before leading her to the chair.  He then checked over Rogers, who still was shouting but who arm has stopped bleeding already, before cuffing her to the dresser leg and calling for backup to take her into custody.  “It’s her leg, sir.  The bullet grazed it.” 

“Shut up,” Mycroft said rounding on Rogers.  His murderous glaze had her immediately quieting to a snuffle. 

Turning to his brother, “Sherlock?”  Mycroft asked looking at the red sheading on his brother’s blanket.  He hurried toward him and attempted to move the cover to see what had happened.

“Just a scratch,” Sherlock tried to assure him holding the pressure on his side.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Captain Watson voice came from behind Mycroft.  Stepping up to the bed, “Let me see that scratch!” John ordered.  The detective and doctor glared at each other for a moment before Sherlock removed the blanket.

“Scratch, my ass.  This needs stitches and antibiotics,” John turned to Josh, “Can you get my medical case from under the sink in the bathroom.”

While they waited, Mycroft looked at the landlady.  “Are you okay, Mrs. Hudson?” 

“I’m fine Mr. Holmes.  Just sorry that witch was only gazed. I was aiming for her leg,” She eyeballed Rogers.  “Put a sock in it you witch.  If you ever touch my, Sherlock again, I’ll do more than put a bullet in you.”

Mycroft returned his eyes to his brother, “How bad is it, Doctor Watson?”

“He’ll live but will have to stay quiet for three days or so.”  Sherlock started to object, but the glare from both John and Mycroft silenced him.

Josh handed him the medical bag.  “Ta.  Now, Sherlock, I’m going to clean this up, give you a shot of lidocaine, and then stitch you up.”

Moving to Rogers to remove her from the room, Josh asked, “Do the younger Mr. Holmes need an ambulance, sir?”

“Not at the moment,” Watson said.

Josh uncuffed Rogers, grabbed her unhurt arm and began to lead her out of the room.

“Sherlock, darling, tell them it was all a misunderstanding.  I know you’re mine.”  She begged.

“You’re delusional,” Sherlock said jumping as John jabbed in the injection.

“I’ll kill all of them before I can come to you without their interference.  You’ll be sorry you rejected me.”  She screamed as Josh dragged her out of the room and handed her over to the guards who had arrived.  Mrs. Hudson followed explaining what she would do to the woman if she returned to her home.

Sticking his head in the room, Josh inquired. “Did you need anything else, sir?”

“Is it alright if he runs to the Chemist to pick up the medication for Sherlock?” John asked.

A nod from Mycroft had Josh accepting the prescription for antibiotics before leaving.

While waiting for the lidocaine to deaden the area, Sherlock whined. “Why do I need to stay in bed for at least three days?  I’m not that bad off.”

“Either dear brother you’ll do as Dr. Watson says or I’ll have you transported to the hospital,” Mycroft warned.

“But, John talk to him,” the whine deepened. 

John crossed his arms over his chest, “Maybe that will be the best idea seeing you can’t be trusted.  Don’t think we won’t discuss your deception.”

 “We will also be discussing your actions that endangered not only yourself but Mrs. Hudson,” Mycroft voice expressed his disappointment.

“I just wanted some alone time.  I didn’t think she would dare come here,” he grumbled.

“That’s just it, Sherlock.  You didn’t think.  Now let the doctor stitch you up and then you’ll rest.”

John stitched him up, applied the antibiotics, covered the site, handed him Paracetamol and the medication when Josh had returned. “Now rest.”

“Not tired,” he huffed like a toddler as his eyes began to droop.

“Of course, you’re not,” Mycroft said kissing him on the forehead before they all left him to sleep.

Accepting a cup of tea from Mrs. Hudson, the men sat as she left the flat calling out, “Just this one time, not your housekeeper.”

“What are we going to do with him?”  John asked Mycroft, “This wasn’t the first time he did something like this and won’t be the last unless we impress upon him how dangerous his lie was.”

“Give me a minute, I think I have an idea,” Mycroft told him. 

“It can’t be too strenuous.  Sherlock does need to rest and not pull those stitches for at least three days.”

Mycroft was silent for a few minutes before an evil smile appeared.  “Are you still willing to keep an eye on him while I work, and I’ll be here when you do?”

“Of course.  What do you have in mind?”

“He wanted to be left alone for a while.  We do just that.  Other than taking in medication and food, help him to the bathroom and just checking him over, we leave him in his room without anyone to talk to.  He can have his laptop and phone, but we do not answer texts, calls or his demands.  Let’s allow him his alone time.”  Mycroft explained.

“Oh, you’re evil Mycroft, but I do believe it will work.”  John agreed.  Then said, “Mycroft I never thank you for the rehab you set up for me.   The therapy has taught me many things but mostly that I don’t have to be my father.  I’m sure Sherlock and I will continue to have our domestics, as Mrs. Hudson call them, but I’m learned ways to handle the anger I encounter.  Never again will I hit Sherlock in anger.”

“Your welcome and I’m glad to hear it.  But I’m afraid you’ll have to prove this new attitude to me.  Remember, Dr. Watson if you ever touch him again, you’ll not find me this forgiving.”  Mycroft warned.


	12. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together

The next three days, the men and Mrs. Hudson after they explained what they planned to do, ignored Sherlock except when necessary.  When Sherlock asked them to stay, they excused themselves due to work.  When he texted for something unnecessary, they text back ‘busy’. And when he called, they often let it go to voicemail.   This resulted in him texting to go to the bathroom more often, asking for food and drink frequently that resulting in him eating more than normal, and texting ‘BORED’ that they ignored him.

On the fourth morning, Mycroft brought in his breakfast. 

“Not hungry,” Sherlock grumbled burying himself in his blankets.

“Would like me to sit with you as you eat?”  Mycroft offered.

Sherlock head shot up, “You would?”

“Of course.  After you finished, I thought you might want to get dress and sit in the living room.  Then when your medication makes you comfortable, we could go to my house for a few days.”  Mycroft smiled at the confused look on his brother’s face.

“Aren’t you still mad at me?”

“Not mad but disappointed that you lied to Dr. Watson.”

 “We can go to your house?”

“Yes, Dr. Watson said if you take it slowly, you are ready to get up.  That is if you had enough alone time.”  A smirk appeared on Mycroft face.

“That wasn’t nice of you and John.  But yes, I had enough alone time.  Can we go now?”  Sherlock sounded desperate.

“After you eat,” the government office ordered.

Sherlock gobbled down his breakfast, scrapping his dish clean. “Done.”

“Do you want to pack things for a few days?  I mean you still need to rest a little, and my place is quiet.”

Mycroft helped his brother get a few things together, called for his car and led Sherlock to it. 

Once they arrived at Mycroft’s, Sherlock stood shyly in the hallway. 

Coming back into the hall, Mycroft said, “Well come in little brother.  What’s the problem?” 

Shuffling his feet, Sherlock asked, “Do you still love me?”

“Nothing will stop me from loving you, Sherlock.”

“Not even when I’m not perfect?”

“No one is perfect, little brother.  We should just learn from our mistakes.”

“Then why are we still standing here?”  Sherlock laughed grabbing his brother’s hand dragging him up the stairs.  It took them longer than normal as they stop on each step to kiss each other deeply and whining with want.  At the top of the stairs, Mycroft pulled Sherlock into the room and placed him gently on the bed before kissing him deeply.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Mycroft moaned into his brother’s mouth.  “Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

“Didn’t do it on purpose,” Sherlock breathed out between deep filthy kisses.  “I want you. Please, Mycroft, way too many clothes.”

“Dr. Watson said rest and I don’t think sex is considered resting,” Mycroft reminded him.

“John’s a worrier,

Pulling his brother back up, Mycroft began to undress him. As each area of skin appeared, he kissed it before moving on to the next revealed spot.  Reaching his butt, he cupped it and squeezed. 

Once naked, Sherlock returned the act of undressing Mycroft. As the last piece of clothing was removed, Sherlock tumbled them both back on the bed. “I want you in me now Mycie.”

Mycroft started by kissing his neck, down his chest, to his nipples.  Sucking on each one to the increased moans Of Sherlock. After each harden, he moved down to the navel.  Licking and kissing, the moans became indecent.  Finally, Mycroft reached his member, kissing the tip before swallowing it down.

 Sherlock felt his delightful brother’s warm mouth about to tip him over.  “Mycie, please,” Sherlock pleaded raising his hips to meet his brother’s mouth. 

Coming up to kiss Sherlock, “What do you want Sherlock?” 

“Inside me, please.”

“I think I’ve never heard you say the word so many times in a row. I’ll grant your wish as long as I do all the work, and you rest the rest of the night.” Mycroft teased reaching down to play with the center of Sherlock’s pleasure.  Tickling and stroking it, the moaning and lewd pleads increased. 

“I promise, now get on with it,” Sherlock demanded.

“Bossy, bossy,” Mycroft said reaching for the lube and dribbled it over his fingers.  One by one he placed them into his brother, opening him widely until his begging became too much.  Covering his harden cock in lube, he slid into Sherlock.   Giving his brother a few seconds to adjust to the intrusion, he kissed his way back up to Sherlock’s mouth. 

“Love you so much.  Are you okay?” 

“I feel you so deeply.  Move,” Sherlock said.

Starting slowly, Mycroft increased as Sherlock said, “Oh yes…right there…. faster love, I’m so close.”  Mycroft kissed him as he felt his body tighten.  A moment later Sherlock came closely followed by Mycroft.

“I love you Mycie,” the detective held him tight as they came down from their high.

Mycroft collapsed on Sherlock before sliding off him.  “I was so scared when you were taken that I would never see you, hold you or kiss you again. Please promise me you’ll never do something like it again.”

Sherlock snuggled up beside him, “I love you.  Going to catch some sleep,” he said as he drifted off to sleep.

Mycroft smiled at his brother. He didn’t get his promise but knew that taming Sherlock would never happen.  Holding him tighter, he smiled joining his brother in sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments, Kudos, and suggestions. I think it's time our guys have a nice vacation with no problems. Will see what I can do.


End file.
